


i see you (what a mess we've made of everything)

by Salty_Cro



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Feelings Realization, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Seeing the Future As A Plot Device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Cro/pseuds/Salty_Cro
Summary: Duck Newton has fallen in love. But he'll be damned if he lets that ruin his friendship.Indrid Cold is definitely in love. He's just not willing to rely on a "maybe."(Title from "I See You" by MISSIO)





	i see you (what a mess we've made of everything)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TritoneHorror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TritoneHorror/gifts).



> This is a commission for Vance aka [duckwellfucknewton](%E2%80%9Cduckwellfucknewton.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) on tumblr, go check them out!

It was in the middle of driving, in the middle of the night, when Duck realized.

 

Now, a two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere is never a great place to be, especially before dawn, but it’s an even worse place to have an epiphany. First, you have to stay on the road and not crash into a tree. Then you have to face the thoughts that stemmed from your eureka moment on your own. This particular realization was tricky, too. Duck had silenced his brain the moment he thought it, and was slowly coming back around to the idea. 

 

Because, well, it would seem that, given the recent circumstances, as well as some pre-existing factors, it was entirely and certainly possible that Duck was in love with Indrid.

 

This wasn’t exactly a new line of thought for Duck. No, he’d been thinking about it for longer than he maybe should have. It had been just a theoretical, though. A possibility. A future that should be prepared for but not expected. God, Duck was starting to think like Indrid now. He was in way too deep.

 

Duck contemplated the situation for the rest of the drive home. It hadn’t even been that long. Duck had found Indrid in his Winnebago a few days after the tree debacle, and that was only a month ago. Sure, they had been hanging out pretty often. That didn’t mean Duck had to go and fall in love with him. Too late for that, apparently. Fuck. What was he supposed to do? Tell Indrid? Absolutely not. They just barely becoming friends, no way Duck could just declare his feelings like that.

 

As Duck made it to his apartment building, he figured he could just ignore the feelings. Either they would go away on their own, or Indrid would figure it out and make the decision for him. It would be fine. Duck may not be a great liar, but he was great at keeping his mouth shut.

 

Of course, that all went out the window within 24 hours.

 

It started with Indrid calling Duck. Duck knew who it was before he even made it to the receiver. 

 

Duck picked up the phone. “Hey Indrid.” 

 

“Hi Duck,” Indrid greeted, “Are you busy today?”

 

“Nah, not really. I had the graveyard shift last night, so I’m free until Tuesday,” Duck said. He knew that Indrid already knew that.

 

“Good, that’s good, because I was wondering if maybe we could go up to Snowshoe today? The grocery store there still has eggnog, and the bulk packs of Capri Suns,” Indrid replied, “I’d go myself, but I don’t really have a car.”

 

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Duck said. The sudden and halting realization that that meant spending so much time alone with Indrid hit him like a truck. Duck just straightened his shoulders and ignored it. He just had to not make things weird.

 

“Great! I’m ready whenever,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, I’ll come pick you up in a bit,” Duck said.

 

“See you in 26 minutes,” Indrid said, and Duck could hear his grin.

 

“See you,” Duck smiled.

 

~☀~

 

During Duck’s midnight crisis, he had forgotten how easy Indrid was to be around. Indrid had made it clear when they were getting to know each other that he could not be bothered with any kind of social norms. Duck was completely fine with that, considering he barely understood them anyway. He figured it was just another way they were going against fate.

 

And despite Duck’s worries, Indrid hadn’t mentioned anything even remotely related to romance. He was his usual self, but Duck noticed him more. The subtle gestures, every time Indrid adjusted his hair or his glasses or fiddled with the hair ties on his wrist. The problem was that Duck was currently driving, so noticing those those things was pretty dangerous.

 

It was only Duck’s fear of being caught that kept him from swerving off the road. Every time Duck looked over, Indrid would turn to look back. Duck immediately looked back at the road each time. He was almost positive Indrid was doing it on purpose.

 

The real challenge came with Indrid singing along to the radio. Duck wasn’t even sure how Katy Perry’s “E.T.” managed to get onto this low-frequency grunge and alt-rock station. But there Indrid was, singing along and dancing just enough to make Duck look over. 

 

“Eyes on the road, Duck,” Indrid said knowingly.

 

“I’m not the one singing about seducing aliens,” Duck retorted.

 

“Maybe you should and then you’d be more focused,” Indrid said.

 

At any other time, Duck would have just laughed and brushed it off, or maybe sing the chorus just to humor him. Now though, Duck was keenly aware of how very close he was to seducing an alien, and it was too much to handle. He just gripped the steering wheel tighter and prayed to whoever would listen that he wasn’t making things weird.

 

When they finally got to Snowshoe, Duck had calmed down. The more worked up about he got, the more likely he was to say something. Ironically, that was something Indrid had explained while trying to teach Duck how to lie even a little bit. So Duck sucked it up and parked his truck and pretended he was totally cool.

 

Luckily, he made it through the grocery store without event. Well, kind of.

 

There was the feeling of domesticity that nested in Duck’s chest as he pushed the cart. He followed as Indrid flitted to different aisles and shelves looking for who-knows-what. At this point, Duck wasn’t about to fight it. He would take what he could get. And honestly, there was something intimate about grocery shopping with a friend, even if it didn’t mean anything.

 

Then there was the candy aisle, which was an ordeal in and of itself.

 

“I think legally we are required to pass through the candy aisle to get to the refrigerated section, Duck,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright,” replied Duck, who had been trying to hurry past the aisle without even looking at it.

 

Indrid had a borderline obscene sweet tooth, and Duck wondered if he would have to physically drag the guy out of there. 

 

“Look, Duck, they’ve put out Valentine’s Day stuff already,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh yeah, huh,” Duck said.

 

Indrid picked up a pack of heart-shaped gummies. “As obnoxious as the commercialization of love is, I think this holiday has the best candy.”

 

“See, you say that, until Peeps and those mini eggs come out for Easter,” Duck replied.

 

“I don’t know, I’m sure there’s comparable things here,” Indrid said vaguely.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Duck spotted what Indrid must be talking about. A package of pink, heart-shaped marshmallows sat abandoned next to some boxes of chocolate. Duck picked it up and tossed it in the cart. He could practically feel Indrid’s grin, even though Indrid was near the other end of the aisle. Duck looked at a package of Ring Pops and wondered if proposing with one would be a good idea.

 

But no, Duck was fine. He was totally chill. He decided he wasn’t going to be in love with Indrid anymore, remember?

 

They made it out of the grocery store and got back in the truck. Duck sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, waiting for Indrid to tell him where they were going next.

 

“Should we get something to eat?” Indrid asked.

 

“Sure.” Duck started the truck. “Wolf Ember Grill?”

 

“Of course,” Indrid replied.

 

It was a short drive from the store to the ski resort where the restaurant was. It was a dreary February afternoon, so there weren’t many people there. Duck held the door open for Indrid automatically, and Indrid smiled his thanks. A solid three seconds passed before Duck remembered he was supposed to go inside too.

 

He walked up behind Indrid, who was talking to the host.

 

“Right this way,” the host said, grabbing two menus. They led Indrid and Duck to a table by the window and set down the menus. “A server will be with you soon!”

 

Duck picked up the menu to hide his face. He knew he wasn’t being smooth, because he and Indrid both know that he always got the same thing. Indrid didn’t comment though, so Duck figured he was in the clear. He took a deep breath and continued trying to be cool.

 

* * *

  
  


Indrid knew immediately that something was up with Duck. Literally the moment Duck picked up the phone, Indrid had to shift gears. He didn’t know what it was, but he wanted to find out sooner than later.

 

The change became very obvious when Duck came to pick Indrid up. Indrid was doing his usual mental traffic scan when he hit a timeline that genuinely surprised him. It was about twenty minutes into the drive, and Indrid would be singing along to the radio, and Duck would glance over and say something to the effect of “I think I’m in love with you.”

 

Now, Indrid was no stranger to this kind of vision. He got peripheral visions of love confessions all the time. That didn’t mean they would happen, or that they were even real. It was just the first time Indrid had ever gotten one of Duck specifically confessing to him. It was a line of thought Indrid had not gone down before. But he got in the truck without saying anything.

 

The car trip, as Indrid predicted, did not turn out any spontaneous declarations of love. However, as Indrid looked ahead to the grocery store, he got two more instances where Duck would confess, plus… a marriage proposal? Indrid figured sleep deprivation was messing with his ability to process these visions. Hopefully when he got home he could take a nap.

 

The visions really started to make a difference when they reached the restaurant. Indrid saw no less than twelve futures where Duck said something undeniably romantic. That was a whole ten percent of the futures. Still, Indrid figured it must be a miscalculation. Or there could be some undetermined event that would force Duck to say something like that. Either way, it couldn’t be true.

 

After all, Indrid was biased. He had, in the past few days, realized his own feelings. It turned out that he was in love with Duck. It wasn’t unreasonable, just inconvenient. Indrid usually tried to distance himself from the people he helped. This was the exact opposite of that. But, with the long-term futures Indrid could make out, it wouldn’t make too much of a difference.

 

That didn’t fix his current issue. Right now, Indrid was sitting across from a man he should not be in love with, and getting visions that would suggest that love was reciprocated. Indrid needed to get himself together before his visions got any more hopeful.

 

“What’s wrong?” Duck asked.

 

Indrid snapped his head up. “Nothing, why?”

 

“You just seemed like you were thinking too hard,” Duck said, “Is there something we should be worried about?”

 

“No, I just got distracted, sorry,” Indrid said. He picked up a menu and started flipping through it, even though he already knew what he was getting.

 

Duck looked out the window. “Y’know—”

 

Indrid was suddenly overwhelmed with visions of Duck confessing his love. It was terrifying, to say the least, especially considering that the last thing that overwhelmed him like this was the future-ruining cottonwood tree. They cleared up almost as soon as they came. Indrid figured his expression must have changed, because Duck looked very concerned now.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You just flinched,” Duck frowned.

 

“I’m fine, I promise, I just— just got surprised, is all,” Indrid replied.

 

“What was it?” Duck asked.

 

“Oh, uh, nothing, it’s already gone. That happens sometimes, extreme circumstances hinging on one little event and then disappearing as soon as that event is over,” Indrid said. 

 

He wasn’t lying, but that wasn’t what was going on here. He could still see several timelines where Duck— oh. Now there were timelines where they kissed. Everything was spiraling quickly, especially the more Indrid thought about it. Instead of extrapolating the romantically charged visions, Indrid shut down the whole train of thought and focused on Duck as he was right now.

 

That did not help much either. The diffused sunlight from the grey sky did wonders for Duck, and the angle he was looking out the window made his face glow. Indrid noticed more than a few grey hairs coming in around Duck’s roots and the sides of his beard. He wondered if Duck was going to keep them or dye them out, like he seemed to be doing before Indrid actually met him.

 

Duck looked back at Indrid. “What? Is there something on my face?”

 

“No,” Indrid said. Then he realized he was staring. “Sorry, no, I just zoned out.”

 

“You know what you’re getting?” Duck asked.

 

“We get the same thing every time,” Indrid pointed out.

 

“I know, I’m just saying, if you wanted to branch out I wouldn’t be offended,” Duck said.

 

“I think I’ll stick with the usual this time,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright,” Duck said. He stacked the menus in the middle of the table.

 

The waiter came over almost immediately, and they put in their orders. Once the waiter left, Indrid turned back to Duck.

 

“How was work last night?” Indrid asked.

 

“Oh, you know,” Duck said, suddenly quiet.

 

“The same as usual?” Indrid tried.

 

“Yeah, more or less,” Duck said.

 

“You said you don’t have to go in until Tuesday, right? That’s nice,” Indrid said. He had a suspicion that Duck’s reluctance to talk was related to the futures Indrid was seeing.

 

“Yeah, I was thinking I might be able to finish up that one ship I was working on,” Duck shrugged, “Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to get onto the Minecraft server for once.”

 

Indrid laughed, “That would be nice.”

 

“Has much changed since I was last on?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, Aubrey’s chicken farm caught on fire, but other than that it’s been quiet. Everyone’s busy, it seems,” Indrid said. With an over-dramatic sigh, he added, “It’s just me these days, keeping up the empty bases, a ghost in a world that used to thrive.”

 

“Alright, I’ll see about getting on tomorrow,” Duck laughed. Indrid smiled.

 

Conversation came easily after that. Indrid was focused enough to ignore his visions, and Duck no longer acted sheepish or distracted. The waiter brought their drinks and appetizer over, so there were safety nets in case either of them needed an excuse not to talk. Surprisingly, neither of them really needed it. In fact, Indrid had to keep reminding himself that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.

 

This lasted through the rest of the meal as well. Duck started talking about a few different places that were damaged by abominations that he hoped would recover in the spring. Indrid in turn told about how the area was different from the last time he was there in the 60s. That turned into talking about whether or not Smokey Bear and friends would be considered propaganda, a conversation that lasted them the whole drive home.

 

As Duck pulled into the loop where Indrid’s camper was, he said, “He’s just a bear, Indrid.”

 

“The same could be said for you, and you’ve been upholding ‘Sylvain doesn’t exist’ rhetoric for months,” Indrid said. Duck snickered and shook his head.

 

“Yeah but like, he’s not telling you to join the army or hate anybody, he’s just asking you not to start fires in the woods,” Duck countered.

 

“I’m not saying he’s negative propaganda. In fact, I think as far as propaganda goes, Smokey is good propaganda. And you have to admit the style and motifs and distribution are very similar,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, I guess I’ll give you that,” Duck said in a mock-defeated voice.

 

“You just want me out of the car,” Indrid teased.

 

“Nah, you’re right. Smokey Bear is anti-arson propaganda, you got me again, good job,” Duck said.

 

“Well, if we can’t agree on this we can at least agree that it’s Smokey Bear not Smokey the Bear,” Indrid said.

 

“That’s true,” Duck said. He stopped the truck in front of Indrid’s Winnebago. “As much as I’d love to keep arguing with you, this is your stop.”

 

“Thank you for driving me,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s no problem, it was fun,” Duck said.

 

Then Indrid was hit with about sixteen different futures where he said goodbye and as he would get out, Duck would say something like “Love you, bye.” Now Indrid was, again, totally used to these futures from the most random of people. It was simply human error. But the frequency had to mean something. Or perhaps Indrid just needed to take a nap and reset his brain.

 

“See you later, Duck,” Indrid said, getting out of the truck.

 

“Bye Indrid,” Duck said. No additional phrases or sentiments.

 

Indrid shut the door and walked towards his camper, wondering what it all meant.

 

* * *

 

A whole week passed without Duck really talking to Indrid. Sure, he had gotten on the Minecraft server as promised, but he wasn't exactly active in the chat. Duck wasn't sure if Indrid was avoiding him or if they were both just busy. To be fair, it was getting into snowmelt season, and that meant ice everywhere. Maybe Indrid didn’t want to bust his ass trying to get to Duck’s apartment.

 

Either way, it gave Duck a chance to examine his feelings. He knew that there was no chance that Indrid would want a relationship with him, and he knew he needed to get over that quickly and before Indrid himself had to say it. Surely Indrid knew by now. Right? He had to. But he never brought it up. And Indrid didn't seem like the kind of guy to lie about his feelings.

 

As soon as Duck came to a conclusion on the matter, he heard a knock on his door. His cat Toaster went to investigate. It wasn't really late, only seven, but Duck wasn't expecting anyone.

 

“Hey Duck, I hate to bother you so late,” Indrid said as soon as Duck opened the door.

 

“Hey, what’s— what’s going on?” Duck replied, stepping aside so Indrid could come in.

 

“The generator in my camper gave out, and obviously all the repair places are closed right now, do you think I could stay here for the night?” Indrid asked.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Duck said.

 

“Thank you, like I said I hate to impose but I would rather not freeze to death,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s no problem. You need anything to eat?” Duck replied.

 

“No, thank you,” Indrid said, sitting down at the kitchen table. He pulled a notebook out of his bag and opened it to a seemingly random page. He pulled a pen from nowhere and begin scratching something down. Toaster jumped up on the table and tried to catch the pen. Indrid pet her cheek before redirecting her to the floor.

 

“You want me to leave you alone for now?” Duck asked.

 

“Well, it’s your home,” Indrid said, distracted by his work.

 

“That’s not an answer,” Duck said.

 

“I can’t promise I’ll be an interesting conversation partner,” Indrid tried.

 

“Still not an answer. If you want me to stop bothering you just say so,” Duck said.

 

“You’re not bothering me, I’m just not in a social mode currently,” Indrid said, finally looking up at Duck.

 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Duck said. Then, with a slight grin, he added, “Jeopardy will be on soon though.”

 

“I promise I’ll be done in time to tell you all the answers,” Indrid said.

 

Duck went back to his seat on the couch. He flipped through the channels until he landed on Wheel of Fortune. He wasn’t really watching it. Instead, he was thinking about Indrid, who was quietly muttering and writing. He had done this before, coming over just to work by himself. Duck didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt better knowing Indrid wasn’t freezing to death while trying to single-handedly save the world.

 

After a while, about two minutes before Jeopardy started, Indrid came over and sat down next to Duck. Duck moved over a little to make room, and Indrid instantly filled the space. He looked tired. Duck wondered if he had been getting enough sleep.

 

The close quarters were also a great reminder of Duck’s feelings. He had been so sure that he could get over them, but now Indrid was here. Within arm’s reach. Close enough that, if he wanted to and wasn’t so goddamn awkward, Duck could—

 

“What is Mt. St. Helens,” Indrid said, in time with the person on the screen. Duck remembered that he was supposed to be paying attention.

 

“Damn, I should’ve got that one,” Duck said.

 

“You’re distracted,” Indrid said.

 

“I— I mean, I guess, yeah,” Duck said, unsure of how to respond.

 

Indrid did not elaborate. He just kept guessing the answers a split second before Duck could say them. Duck wondered if he was doing it on purpose. By the way Indrid kept glancing over at him, he was.

 

Also, Indrid seemed to be moving closer to Duck. Whether by slow-acting couch gravity or by choice, or by Toaster trying to sit with them, Duck wasn’t sure. He was hesitant to move, in case that disturbed the precarious energy in the room. But eventually Jeopardy did end, and Duck knew he would have to change the channel.

 

Indrid surprised him by leaning forward and grabbing the remote off the coffee table before falling back into place against Duck’s side. Every single point of contact was buzzing with some weird energy, weirder than how Indrid usually felt. Duck gently rested his arm on the back of the couch, behind Indrid’s shoulders. Indrid didn’t move.

 

They stayed like that as Indrid flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch. They settled on reruns of Friends. Duck wasn’t particularly invested in the plot, though, so he kept looking at Indrid.

 

Indrid looked… well, he looked comfortable. He seemed perfectly content to rest against Duck, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And Duck was fine with that. Platonic affection is totally cool. Duck’s worry was that he would somehow make it not platonic, which would ruin everything.

 

Somehow, Duck managed to not ruin it. There were a few times where Duck was scared Indrid would suddenly realize how he felt. Whenever Duck moved, or when he looked at Indrid for just a second too long, he was hoping he didn’t come off as having an ulterior motive. He and Indrid were friends, and Duck was happy with that.

 

However, he did have to move eventually. He had to go to work in the morning, which meant he had to go to bed, and also the bathroom. Indrid seemed to sense this, and he started shifting away. Duck knew he had to take the opportunity, even if he wanted to stay there in theory.

 

“I think I should head to bed,” Duck said, standing up. “The couch pulls out, if you feel like sleeping.”

 

“Alright, thank you for letting me stay,” Indrid said.

 

“Of course, that’s what friends are for, right?” Duck said. Both of them could tell it was forced.

 

“Good night, Duck,” Indrid said with a small smile.

 

“Night,” Duck waved, walking down the hallway.

 

~☀~

 

Duck woke up to the sound of his alarm and the smell of breakfast, something that hadn’t happened in years. At first he wondered if he was having a stroke, but then he remembered that Indrid had stayed the night. With a sigh and a stretch, Duck got out of bed.

 

Indrid looked up from the stove as soon as Duck walked into the kitchen. “Good morning.”

 

“Hey,” Duck replied, “You’re making breakfast?”

 

“Yes, I did the math and you need the extra time to get ready. You need to leave early to make it to work on time, there’s going to be a minor accident that shuts down the main road around the time that you would drive on it,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh, well, uh, thank you. Are the people going to be okay?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes, they’ll be fine. Maybe whiplash, but nothing serious. The roads are just very icy,” Indrid said, cracking another egg into the pan.

 

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get ready,” Duck said. Indrid nodded and turned back to the stove.

 

Duck went back to his room and grabbed his uniform. He would have to put it on right out of the shower, since he couldn’t exactly walk around in a towel. He went through his usual routine, adjusted to stay in the bathroom for as much of it as possible.

 

When Duck finally emerged, it seemed like breakfast was ready. He went back to the kitchen to find Indrid eating at the counter and staring out the window.

 

“Hey,” Duck said.

 

“Hey, breakfast is ready,” Indrid said, drinking orange juice but clearly not focused on it. 

 

“Thanks,” Duck said. 

 

He started getting his usual stuff together: keys, water bottle, thermos of coffee, fanny pack of essential tools, Beacon. He fed Toaster her wet food too. Once all that was settled, he poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down at the counter to eat.

 

“What happens if my camper doesn’t get fixed?” Indrid asked after a few minutes. He wasn’t looking at Duck, or probably even talking to him.

 

Still, Duck replied, “You can stay here if you need.”

 

Duck wasn’t sure why he offered that. It wasn’t like he was going to leave Indrid in the cold, but it made things weird for sure. If Duck’s feelings ever came to light, Indrid might feel pressured into staying even if he wasn’t comfortable, and Duck didn’t want that.

 

“I can get a hotel room, that might actually be cheaper,” Indrid mused.

 

“Or that, yeah,” Duck said. He took a drink of his coffee to hide his face.

 

“I’ll see what the mechanic says,” Indrid decided. He turned to Duck. “You should go soon.”

 

“Trying to kick me out of my own house,” Duck grinned, “You need a ride?”

 

“Sure,” Indrid said.

 

Duck set his dishes in the sink, grabbed his stuff, put on his boots and jacket and hat, and opened the door. Indrid started walking towards the stairs, and Duck followed after he locked the door. They went out to the truck and got in. As Duck started the engine, he cranked up the heater. Indrid was only wearing the single jacket he came with.

 

The drive was quiet, like Kepler itself seemed to be. The sky was still a pale grey, and no one was eager to go out in the ice. Duck hoped it would be an easy day at work. Indrid was humming along to the radio. Every time Duck looked over at him, he was gazing out the window, but he swore he felt Indrid’s gaze on him.

 

Duck stopped at Indrid’s campground first. “Alright, we’re here.”

 

“Oh, we are,” Indrid said. He unbuckled his seatbelt. “See you later.”

 

“Call me once you figure out what’s going,” Duck said.

 

“Will do. Thanks for the ride,” Indrid said, getting out of the tuck.

 

“Bye,” Duck said. Indrid waved as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

Indrid wasn’t sure what exactly he was going to do. He knew that he should call Duck for sure, but he needed to figure out the best thing to say. That was hard to do while sitting in a crowded cafe. Right now he had to choose between being alone and being warm while he made up his mind.

 

After going to the mechanic, Indrid found out that his Winnebago was being held together with literal magic at this point. Sure, it was fifty years old, but Indrid liked to think he had maintained it well. Honestly, it was something of a Theseus’s Ship, the amount of things Indrid ended up replacing over the years.

 

Still, he needed a place to stay while it was fixed. It would be a while, for sure. Indrid knew he could get a hotel room, but that was a lot of people to have in the background. And he also knew that Duck would offer to let him stay as soon as he heard. Indrid didn’t want to exploit the kindness Duck had been showing him, and he knew that he would not last long without telling Duck how he felt. He couldn’t discern how Duck would react, probably from his own emotional fog, but he knew that it wouldn’t end well.

 

Then what? Indrid needed to make a decision. In his heart, he knew what he wanted to do, but he needed to find a way to justify it to his reasonable brain. Staying at Duck’s place would save money, and it would mean less people knew about his existence should he need to disappear, and he wouldn’t have to worry as much as about eating because Duck was very insistent on him doing so.

 

On the other hand, Indrid was in love with Duck and it showed. He had isolated himself in hopes of cutting off the feelings, but that didn’t help at all. Then his generator went out, as if the universe itself was pushing Indrid towards Duck. And far be it from Indrid to disobey the whims of the universe, as often as he would like to. Then he had gone and cuddled up to Duck like that would help. Duck didn’t seem to mind, but he also made it clear they were just friends.

 

Indrid picked up his to-go cup of hot chocolate and left the cafe. There was a payphone right outside, and Indrid had been holding the quarters in his hands for ten minutes. He dialed the number for Duck’s ranger station and put in the money.

 

“Monongahela National Forest ranger station, you’ve reached Ranger Newton, what can I do for ya?” Duck answered.

 

“Please tell me you don’t always sound like this,” Indrid said.

 

“What’re you talking about? I’m always this upbeat and friendly,” Duck said, exaggerating his voice even more. Then he dropped it and asked, “What’s up?”

 

“They said it’s going to be at least two weeks, because it— well, it was literally held together with magic,” Indrid said.

 

“Oh, wow, what are you gonna do?” Duck replied. Indrid flipped over to see Duck’s face as close to real-time as he could.

 

“I… don’t know,” Indrid said. He did know, actually, that’s why he was calling. 

 

On the other end of the phone, Duck was looking at a calendar in the back office with a bunch of color-coded marks. “Like I said, you can stay with me, but I get if you don’t want to.”

 

“I… might have to end up doing that, if only for a bit,” Indrid said.

 

“Alright, well, I don’t get home from work for another couple hours, but the spare key’s by the door, help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and don’t let the cat fool you into thinking she hasn’t eaten,” Duck said. He looked like he was thinking about something, but Indrid couldn’t figure out what.

 

“Thank you Duck, I do appreciate it,” Indrid said.

 

“It’s no problem, really. Feels kinda empty sometimes anyway,” Duck said. Indrid saw him grimace and shake his head.

 

“Well, thank you for letting me fill that space,” Indrid said. That also sounded weird, but at this point there was nothing less weird to say. “I’ll see you later?”

 

“I guess you will,” Duck said, smiling a little.

 

“Bye Duck,” Indrid hung up, trying not to smile too wide.

 

Now Indrid hated to sound emotional in any way, but he was experiencing a feeling best described as elation. Indrid was trying to keep himself together. The idea of spending so much time around Duck did not sound nearly as bad as it would have three weeks ago. In fact, Indrid was looking forward to it. Even if Duck ignored him most of the time. Indrid knew that wouldn’t happen, but even if it did, he would gladly take it.

 

Once he calmed down, Indrid made a stop at the mechanic’s to get all the things he would need. Clothes, notebooks, pencils and pens, money, ancient laptop, the last carton of eggnog and case of Capri Suns in his fridge, all of it went into his bag. Then, once he determined the coast was clear, he clicked open his glasses and took off towards Duck’s apartment building.

 

With a smooth landing (made less so by the lovestruck expression he had to be making) behind the building, Indrid headed towards the front door. He was around often enough that Ms. Pearson wouldn’t question him. He supposed he or Duck would have to explain the situation to her anyway. The spare key was tucked into a crack between the doorframe and the drywall. Indrid let himself in and instinctively blocked Toaster from running out the door.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am, I do believe that you should stay inside,” Indrid said.

 

Toaster looked up at him, betrayed.

 

“I’m sorry, if I’m going to stay in this house I must abide by its rules,” Indrid said.

 

Toaster flicked her tail and walked away.

 

Indrid set his bag down on the closest barstool. He could wait until Duck was home to unpack. In the meantime, he was hoping to fill up one of the sketchbooks he brought. He pulled it out, along with some pencils, and sat down at the kitchen table.

 

The next thing Indrid knew, there was a key turning in the lock. He knew it was Duck, but the sound startled him.

 

“Hello,” Indrid said.

 

“Hey,” Duck replied, shedding his layers and tossing his keys in the bowl.

 

“How was work?” Indrid asked.

 

“It was alright,” Duck shrugged, “How was it here? Was Toaster bullying you?”

 

“A little,” Indrid grinned.

 

Then the futures of Duck that Indrid kept seeing magnified in his mind and merged into a distinct timeline that was only fractionally different from the one they were going down. Indrid prepared for Duck’s next words.

 

“What were you thinking for dinner?” Duck said. He almost said,  _ “There’s something I gotta tell you before you get settled.” _

 

“I’ll take whatever,” Indrid said. He could have said,  _ “What’s that?” _

 

“I really need to go grocery shopping, so I guess we’re having pizza,” Duck said, looking in the fridge. He didn’t say  _ “I just wanted you to know that I’m in love with you? And I don’t know if that affects you staying here, but you deserve to know.” _

 

“Alright,” Indrid said. That timeline finally merged with the current one. Indrid rested his head on his hand.

 

“Did you want something else?” Duck asked.

 

“Oh, no, sorry, I was distracted,” Indrid said.

 

Duck picked up the phone. “Is pepperoni okay?”

 

Indrid nodded. He was still thinking about the timeline that had been just out or reach. He knew what it meant. Really, he had known this whole time, but he hadn’t been letting himself hope. It was unrealistic at best. But this was undeniable.

 

Still, Indrid wouldn’t push it. At least, not out loud. He could test the waters, sure, maybe cling to Duck a little more, but he wasn’t going to force a conversation about it.

 

The night went fairly smoothly, as far as pretending to not be in love with each other goes. Indrid figured he had nothing to lose by sidling up to Duck, and he really didn’t. There was some initial panic on Duck’s end, which turned out to be from self-consciousness rather than fear of Indrid. After that though, when Indrid didn’t move, Duck gave into it. It was, to put it poetically, wonderful.

 

Indrid figured there was more he could do before a line was crossed. He leaned back against Duck’s arm. Duck moved his hand to Indrid’s shoulder. At this point, Indrid was pretty sure they both knew how the other felt. It was quickly becoming a game of getting the other to talk first. Indrid didn’t mind that at all. He could be very good at that game if he wanted.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Duck was absolutely sure that Indrid knew. He had to. There was no other way Indrid would be this… cuddly. Duck didn’t mind it, for sure. The open affection just wasn’t something Duck was used to from Indrid.

 

The weirdest part was that Duck could pinpoint exactly when things changed. He had been considering telling Indrid about his feelings up until Indrid smiled. Duck had quickly changed to asking about dinner because he didn’t want to be the reason Indrid stopped smiling. Indrid had suddenly disconnected, and then was back after Duck stopped talking to him. Duck was positive that Indrid had seen the timeline where he confessed.

 

But it wasn’t like he could say anything! What if Indrid hadn’t seen it, and he was just finally warming up to Duck, and Duck ruined that? It wasn’t the most likely thing, but it was possible. Duck was terrified of scaring Indrid off, but he also knew Indrid wasn’t as cowardly as he acted. So Duck was just going with the flow. If Indrid wanted to lean his head on Duck’s shoulder, Duck was totally cool with that.

 

Then Indrid slowly pulled away and said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

 

“Uh, sure,” Duck said, “Isn’t it freezing outside?”

 

“I’ll manage,” Indrid said, standing up.

 

“Gimme a second,” Duck said. He went to his room and dug in the closet for the one hoodie he had and rarely wore. When he returned, he handed the hoodie to Indrid.

 

“Thank you.” Indrid smiled. He pulled the hoodie on, then added his usual jacket over it.

 

Duck put on his own jacket and shoes and opened the door. “After you.”

 

Duck was eighty percent sure this was some kind of date. He had no idea what Indrid was planning. Indrid seemed… flirtatious, which was a word Duck would never have associated with him before. As they left the building, Indrid took Duck’s hand in his own. For some reason, that felt more intimate than the snuggling they had been doing.

 

Indrid led Duck down the familiar path that led through the small backyard of the building, into the trees beyond. The river was a ways down, but a creek that split off from it wasn’t too far. Duck knew that Indrid was taking him there, even in the darkness.

 

Sure enough, the spot Duck had showed Indrid a few weeks ago was up ahead. It was a wider part of the shallow creek, with a boulder jutting out over it. In the moonlight, it looked almost magical. Duck was beginning to guess where this night was going.

 

“So there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Indrid said. He sat down on the edge of the boulder and patted the spot next to him.

 

“Oh yeah?” Duck replied, voice cracking. He sat next to Indrid and let his legs hang over the edge.

 

“I… I’ve been seeing some futures lately, as I tend to do,” Indrid said vaguely. 

 

Duck looked over at him. Indrid was illuminated in bright white and enshadowed in deep black. He was almost completely washed out, save for the bright red of his glasses. His sharp cheekbones cast sharp shadows that faded into the stubble on his jaw, and his hair loosely framed his face and pooled across his shoulders. Duck was definitely, completely in love with him.

 

And then he looked back at Duck. “I’ve seen a lot of futures with you.”

 

“With… me?” Duck raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yes, specifically you saying— well, you saying romantic things to or about me. And— before you panic, don’t. I see visions like that all the time, on the fringes, which is why I didn’t act sooner. Why I didn’t allow myself to hope,” Indrid explained.

 

“Hope… you were hoping I liked you?” Duck asked.

 

“Yes, Duck, and I know you’re not going to say it first so I’m going to take initiative here and say that I am, for better or worse, in love with you. I have been for a bit and I don’t know that it’s the best strategic choice but I can’t exactly stop,” Indrid admitted.

 

“Well shit,” Duck laughed, “I’m in love with you too, but you already knew that.”

 

“I like hearing you say it,” Indrid smiled.

 

“I’ll say it again then: Indrid Cold, I am in love with you,” Duck grinned.

 

“That’s excellent news,” Indrid said. His smile softened, and he leaned towards Duck.

 

Duck got the message, for once. He leaned in too, and before he knew it he and Indrid were kissing. It was soft, tentative, and then it was determined and Duck knew he would have to breathe soon but he didn’t want to let go of Indrid.

 

When Duck did finally breathe, he said, “You’re telling me we could have been doing that the whole time if I’d just said something?”

 

“To be fair, I could have said something too,” Indrid said.

 

“You did,” Duck said.

 

And then they are kissing again, and Duck hadn’t done this in a while but he suddenly understood the temptation to make out in the woods. The idea that it was just Duck and Indrid alone out here, balanced on the edge of this boulder, with the whole night to themselves, was exhilarating. Indrid seemed to feel it too. He was holding onto Duck like his life depended on it, kissing him like it was the only way to breathe.

 

After some amount of time, though, Duck’s back was starting to resist. Indrid could tell, and he pulled back, still holding Duck’s hands.

 

“We should go home, before you hurt yourself,” Indrid suggested.

 

“You’re right,” Duck sighed, “How come you’re older and you aren’t aching all the time? Aren’t your joints eight kinds of backwards?”

 

“Magic,” Indrid smiled. He helped Duck down from the rock. “Come on, the faster we get back the more we can do this in your bed.”

 

“You’re lucky I haven’t fallen asleep,” Duck laughed.

 

“We can do that instead,” Indrid said. He kissed Duck one more time.

 

“We’ll see,” Duck said.

 

Indrid chuckled and started walking up the path, pulling Duck along. “We will indeed.”


End file.
